Between Two Lungs
by xGolden.Slumbersx
Summary: Revenge viciously nips at Sam's heels & it's brought friends to the torture chamber: Lust, loss, violence & even love. Ghost's from the past incircle Sam in the best & worse ways. But the present is the scariest factor of all: Dean's Hell.
1. Road to Nowhere

**A/N: I took a haitus from writing fanfiction and just witing altogether, so I'm a bit rusty.  
****Please forgive me for errors and such. But feel free to give kind yet stern c****riticism.  
My first Supernatural fanfic, this chapter is somewhat angsty. It is not Wincest. It is eventual SamxOC.  
Please review, it means the world to me. :]  
Title of Chapter is an Ozzy song.  
Supernatural does not belong to me! (Sadly.)**

Their fight almost turned bloody. The elder of the two came so close to snapping, to hitting the one person he gave up everything for. Sam just wouldn't let it down. He wouldn't drop the subject that Dean was going to hell, no matter what. First, Dean calmly explained to his younger sibling, that he did it for him, while they were in the parked Impala. Sam waved Dean off. Basically saying, "I don't wanna hear your excuses." Dean scoffed at Sam's hand gesture, giving him a glare.

"Like you haven't made mistakes Sam. Look at all the damn times you've ran away like a brat!"

Sam's annoyed looked dropped off his face, faster than when a baby giraffe drops from its mother. It dropped into a face of a father unpleased by his child's words. "Oh, yeah. Real mature, Dean. Resort to childish insults and taunting."

Sam shook his head, giving a dry laugh. "You know what. I'm not listening to this shit, again. I don't need another damn lecture, _dad."_ Sam spat out the last word, getting out of the Impala.

Dean let out a noise that resembled to a dog growling at the hand trying to take away his bone. Dean exited the Impala. His green eyes looked onto Sam's face like and locked onto him like a missile unto a target.

"Don't you walk out on me when I'm trying to talk to you." Dean growled, again.

Sam pretended not to hear his brother's advisory. He went to the trunk of the car, opening it. Dean was already at the other side of the trunk. Dean's body was tense; jaw and fist clenched, eyes locked and loaded. Sam swore, just for a second, Dean was going to literally pounce on him.

Dean remained silent, just letting his piercing gaze do the talking for him. But, Sam ignored the daggers being shot at him. Sam focused on pulling his bag and a few weapons out of the trunk.

"And there he goes! Ready to run away from his family, again. Old habits die hard, eh, Sam?" Venom dripped on every word.

Sam's burrow furrowed, his jaw clenched tight. His anger was beginning to override the guilt he had felt for waving Dean off moments before. All Sam wanted was time alone. Time to think of a way about of this hellish mess. (No joke intended.) Sam knew it was his **fault** Dean was going to rot in hell. Who was he madder at? Dean or himself? Before Sam could answer his nagging mental question Dean answered for him.

"Nevermind Sam. Run away. I don't give a damn. Go on, do what you do best. Dean hissed, even giving a flash of his teeth. Sam was reminded of an angry alpha wolf whose parade has been rained on.

Sam no longer felt guilty. "Oh, you want to talk about running away? YOU of all people is going to talk about running away? Look at your life dean! You've ran away from a life without me, by bringing me back. Both you and Dad ran away from a life without mom. You just don't know how to let thing go Dean." Sam slammed the trunk as hard as possible.

As Sam's eyes left the trunk of the Impala, he saw Dean moving toward him. Anger etched deep into his features. Sam tried to stepped away but Dean strong, worn hands grabbed ahold of Sam by the collar of his jacket and gave him a turbulent shake.

"Dammit Sam! How **dare **you bring mom and dad into this?" Dean's grip tightened on Sam's collar. Sam made a quiet chocking noise as his air supply began to get cut off. Dean was trying with everything he had to hold back from giving Sam a bloody nose or a black eye. Maybe even both.

Sam shoved Dean with all his might, sending Dean over the back of the Impala and landing onto the dirt on the other side of the car. Sam grimaced, immediately hating himself.

Sam turned away quickly, not wanting to see betrayal and hurt swim lifelessly in his brother's green eyes; it would hurt too much. It would literally kill what little self respect he had for himself at the time. Sam picked up his duffle bag and started down this lonely dirt road. What a perfect spot to have a violent altercation with your only family. Birds singing, bugs buzzing, everything in its natural balance, except the Winchester boys.

_I'm so sorry, Dean. I just…I just need some time to think this over, be by myself. Figure how I'll save you from that fiery pit, or at least die trying. _Sam solemnly thought, looking over his shoulder to the brother he couldn't live with or without. He was still plopped down in the dirt, watching helplessly as his baby brother left him alone to fight his demons, once again.

Criticism


	2. Reunion

**A/N: Please review. It always makes my day :D  
Ignore my mistakes, there may be some I missed.  
I do not own Supernatural.**

The younger Winchester felt lower than the ninth level of hell. In this stage of self-loathing Sam felt it was necessary to get drunk in a local bar and pass out in his hotel room. He is still being haunted by the fact that he left Dean alone and frightened on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. What has he done? Sam has tried calling Dean, but always managed to get voicemail. He lost count after his 25th voicemail sent.

Sam entered into the bar called "Long John's" and immediately thought of an immature joke Dean would have made about the place. Probably would have used the name of the bar as a pick up line with one of the bar maids. Sam's thoughts tried to conceive a joke Dean would have said, but he knew it wouldn't be quite right.

Sam struggled to push away his guilty thoughts of leaving Dean, and instead focused on a place to sit. This place was overly packed. "_Oh, right. It's Friday night. And I'll spend it alone getting drunk."_ Sam solemnly thought.

He looked in the back of the bar, trying to locate an isolated table, but not avail. He looked to the bar for empty seat he had two options: sit by the loud trucker who was high on his own testosterone and probably already drunk or sit by the quiet young woman with her nose in a book. Definitely the latter. Sam sat on the left side of the girl. She didn't even bother to glance at the stranger now sitting next to her. She obviously wasn't interested in conversation or being hit on. Sam tried to get a glimpse at her face, but her thick auburn hair shielded her face from any prying eyes.

Sam looked away from her to the barmaid asking what he wanted to drink; all he wanted was a beer. Or five. While waiting he looked down at the book the evasive girl was intently reading. It appeared to be some type of journal. The cover was worn leather; the pages were thin and quite fragile looking, topped off with sloppy handwriting and diagrams. Sam swore he saw something about a "Wraith" being mentioned in the sloppy handwriting territory.

As if she felt his staring, she quickly glanced up at Sam and closed the journal. She looked up at him with cautious cerulean eyes. Her face was pleasantly pale but was smooth and blemish free except for a thin scar running diagonally from the corner of her left eye to the beginning of her jaw line. When standing she was probably 5'9 or 5'10. She was petite but had a hearty supply of muscles. She's been in a share of fights or at least was a repetitive member at a gym of some sort.

"You reek of gun smoke and salt." She observed, wrinkling her nose. "A hunter should never reveal his occupation by a simple avoidable thing such as smell. I'm sure if a demon was in this room right now they'd be waiting for you outside ready to jump you." Her gaze was stern and unfaltering.

Sam's heart plunged down to his feet. He opened to mouth to say something, but nothing would form. He had been totally blindsided by a seemingly normal woman. It wasn't everyday you walk into a bar and are accused of being a hunter.

"How did you…" Sam fumbled.

"My parents and I are hunters. That scent will forever be associated with a hunter." A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Oh, how rude of me. I'm Kallie Skeptor. Daughter of Dmitri and Sophie Spektor. You may have heard of my parents while out on duty. Most hunters have. It's not easy to forget a pair of Russian hunters who are loud and even a bit crazy." She smiled sheepishly.

As Sam thought if knew her or her parents, he extended a hand. "I'm Sam Winchester. Son of John and Mary Winchester."

Her eyes widened in awe. "You're little Sammy? You aren't so little anymore!" She giggled and gave him a bear hug instead. His cheeks flushed a light pink color as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her.

"I remember when you, Dean and John would come over. I always was so happy when you three came over. We all used to laugh and play such silly games. I always had a silly crush on Dean." She let out a nervous giggle and pulled out of the semi-awkward hug. Her eyes were swimming with hope that he would remember. She would never forget.

It was difficult to remember back that far. How many years could that have possibly been? Way more than ten. All the blows to the head have caused a falter in his memory. But a shimmer of memory fluttered by. He remembered the laughter they all shared. Dean had once even peed himself from the jokes her parents used to tell. His father had come very close to what Dean did, but hurriedly excused himself to the bathroom. They never laughed that much as a family after mom died until these Russian hunters came into their lives. But just like Mom, the Russians disappeared leaving the Winchester family to solemnly hunt their demons.

"I remember. I never saw Dean or Dad laugh that much until we met you and your parents." Sam smiled, desperately wanting to go back to the weeks they spent at the Spektor house.

She was practically beaming with happiness. "I never had quite a pair of friends like you and Dean. I always had such a fun time with you two. But to be honest, I was beginning to think I'd never see either Winchester again and here you are. I missed you Sam."

Just like that they fell into a comfortable conversation, often shared by two long lost friends. Sam explained what happened to his father and she was mortified. She loved John like an uncle. She expressed her sorrow to Sam over his father's death, but the sorrow was more for herself. In return she explained why they had randomly disappeared off the face of the planet. The gang of vamps they had been hunting vanished into Canada, so they pursued. Never to be heard of or seen from until 12 years later in a bar called Long Johns. Sam and Kallie exchanged stories until it was closing time at the bar. They talked for more than three hours. Sam didn't even get remotely drunk.

The only thing Sam omitted from their conversation was why Dean wasn't here with him. Her eyes betrayed her as curious, but she didn't question it. As they walked out into the parking lot, Kallie gave Sam another bear hug. "I'm glad I found you again Sam. How long do you plan on staying in our wonderful little town?"

Sam hadn't really planned on how long he was going to be separated from Dean. He couldn't think or look at Dean without feelings overwhelming guilt. "Ummm, I haven't really thought about it. One week, two weeks at most." He said, suddenly feeling very tired.

Kallie noticed the sudden change in his demeanor but said nothing. She pulled out a pen and paper, and wrote down her phone number giving it to Sam. "Feel free to call me whenever. I'm always free." She waved and disappeared into the dark parking lot. Sam would have never suspected that Kallie would have grown up to be such a rough around the edges kind of woman. She was so fragile and tiny when younger. Yet again, so was he.


	3. Hurricane Drunk

**I do not own Supernatural. I only own Kallie & her family.  
I love reviews, so please do it. :D  
Not much action yet, but I promise it'll get better.  
Stories never reveal all their secrets at once ;] (Stephen King Quote.)  
Hurricane Drunk is the title of a Florence + The Machine song.**

Sam reached a bruised hand up to the front door of the slumbering house, but hesitated. He truly did not want to disturb the deep slumbers of the house's occupant, but his options were quite limited. He attempted to contact Dean once more, but Dean ignored his call. Again. Sam sighed, pulling himself straight. He furrowed his brow slightly and knocked on the wooden front door.

The knock was greeted by a series of angry barks and growls. Sam took a step away from the door when he heard "Shut up!" followed by footsteps. The front door opened and a half asleep Kallie appeared. She was in a black tank top and a pair of white pj bottoms with neon pink and green bunnies on them. Kallie gave Sam a stern look, then looked down at her pajama bottoms and flushed.

"What? They were on sale at Wal-Mart." She crossed her arms under her breasts and exhaled sharply. "Why are you here at 3:30 in the morning Sam? I see no limbs missing."

Sam laughed nervously and fidgeted on the porch. "Well, it's kind of a long story. I…I wasn't quite sure who I could go to under such short notice."

Kallie gave him a look that she obviously wasn't convinced but invited him in anyway. She locked the door tightly behind and turned on the overhead light. Sam winced at the brightness, but quickly adjusted to survey the living room he was standing in.

The room was rectangular but it was small. Length wise it was maybe a little more than half the size of a bus. Width-wise it was maybe the length of a small car. The perfect size for one person and her dog (who happened to be growling at Sam.) On his left there was a black leather three person couch next to the door. Across from the couch was a TV, which had no cable box attached to it. But to the right of Sam (and the door) was a grand mahogany bookcase. Many books were of the supernatural variety. Sam surveyed back to the left, pass the couch peering into the tiny yet homey dining area. Through a decorative archway is where the little table called home. Next to the table (separated by a half wall) was the kitchen, which only part of it Sam could see. He brought his attention directly in front of himself and several feet away was a hallway that lead to the back of the house and the bedrooms, he assumed. All together the house was small, but comfortable. Reminded him of the apartment he & Jessica used to share. The thought was immediately wiped away.

"So, tell me why you're here exactly…" Her question trailed off as she _actually _looked at him.

The left side of his face was swollen in an ugly mass of purple, yellow, red, and even a little green. His nose had a crook in it that wasn't there a few days ago, it had been broken recently. The knuckles of both of his hands were shining a bright crimson; he had been in a fight. She gave him a stern, questioning look.

Sam sighed inching her way over to the couch, hoping it wouldn't seem rude if he just flopped down on her couch. He shot her a pleading look and she motioned for him to sit down. She exhaled sharply & loudly, so Sam would look back up at her. "I'll explain in a minute. I promise. Do you have anything to drink? Preferably a beer." He gave an exhausted smile, but he managed.

Kallie scoffed and shuffled into the kitchen. She peeked into the fridge, suddenly remembering that her dad stole the last few beers. "Sorry Sam. All I have is some Tequila…" She trailed off as she rummaged through her cabinet. "Oooo and some Vodka." Then proceeded to murmur to herself.

Sam just needed a small buzz to get rid of the throbbing in his cheek. "Anything will do."

Kallie soon appeared out of the kitchen with clear glasses full of pop laced with Vodka. "I put more Vodka in yours. You look like you need it." She winced as she sat at the other end of the couch and handed him his drink. She let him take a few large sips, before she asked what happened. She shot him an impatient look and he set his glass on the table to his left.

"Okay, okay. I'll explain." Sam took another swig of his drink then set it back down. "Well, all this crap happened a few hours ago. As I was heading back to by motel room, I heard yelling down the hall so I of course looked. The manager was screaming at this kid no more than 18 years old that his rent was due now, or he would kick the kid out by force. The kid explained that he just needed one more day and he would pay, he was almost on the verge of tears. But the manager decided to be super douche and just scream at the kid again. Only this time the kid screamed back and the manager grabbed a hold of the teen and gave him a good shake.

So, being remotely buzzed I wasn't exactly thinking straight and called the manager an asshole and staggered toward him. The manager at first ignored me and decided it would be appropriate to slap the kid across the face. So yanked the manager off the kid and took a swing at him, which he gratefully returned. So we tussled a bit, and I received all this but he looks a lot worse.

Eventually the cops were called and I was almost taken to jail but the kid stood up in my defense. So the cops let me off with a warning and I had to pay the manager's hospital bills. Now I have no money, because I can't seem to get a hold of Dean or Bobby. Oh, I don't have a place to stay either. The manager made that clear. So I was wondering if maybe I could just stay for a night. Just until I get a hold of Bobby or some money. "Sam began to ramble on about "I promise" this and that but Kallie held up a hand to stop him.

"Good going Sam. Only you would get into a half drunken fight with the manger of the motel you're staying at because you are defending a druggie kid, most likely. You're crazy, but honorable. So, I guess you could stay. If you promise to do a little house work for me tomorrow." She grinned like a Cheshire cat.

Sam laughed. He didn't know if it was the booze or just her being her, but he couldn't help but chuckle. "Sure. I couldn't expect you to do something out of the kindness of your heart." He received a slap on his bruised knuckles, which caused him to wince.

"Ow! What was that for?" Sam asked, gawking at her.

"For being a jerk." She gave him a mock-glare and beckoned him to follow her.

She led him into the hallway he took note of earlier. The first door on his left is where she disappeared into, and he stood in the doorway. He watched as she pulled a bed out of an old couch and put sheet and blankets on it.

"Here's your bed. At least you won't have to worry about mysterious motel bugs crawling on it." She said, going out of the door.

"There are extra blankets in the closet if you need them. South Dakota nights can get quite chilly. The bathroom is the closed door, diagonal to your room. My room is the one at the end of the hallway. Only wake me up if you are bleeding from all your orifices or are missing limbs. Now, goodnight Sam Winchester. Sweet Dreams." She gave him pleasant smile and disappeared down the dark corridor to her awaiting room of slumber.

Sam finished fixing up his bed his way. He stripped his jacket and flannel shirt down to a white tee. He hurriedly removed his boots and socks and crawled into a bed that wasn't a motel bed for once. Somewhere that wasn't surrounded by horny and drunk strangers. Just a perfectly small house and its three occupants.


	4. Rocky Horror

**Reviews are appreciated. :)  
I know it's a little slow, but it'll get better. I have all sorts of crazy ideas in store for Sam and Kallie. (Maybe even some for Dean. *muahaha*)  
Supernatural doesn't belong to me.**

The mid-morning sun silvered through the blinds and curtains and found sleeping Sammy's eyes. He groaned, burying his face into the pillow. He wasn't quite ready to be pulled out this dreamless but rejuvenating sleep. Something he needed after last night's outcome of violent events. But his brain was already jump starting ready to start another day.

His eyelids fluttered open and automatically forgot where he was. The punches to the face must have jumbled up his brain. Expecting his tacky motel room he awoke in a small, perfect squared white room. _"Insane asylum?"_ Sam shot up looking around remembering the conclusion of last night's events. _"Kallie's house." _He let out a relieved sigh. He proceeded with stretching his arms over his head and giving a big ol' yawn to top it all off. He threw off his covers and was greeted by a breeze of cold air and shivered. _"Jeez, Kallie. Ever hear of a furnace?" _Sam fumbled to the end of the bed where he had removed his clothes. He searched through his coat pocket finding his cell phone; Two new voicemails. He punched in his password and placed the phone between his shoulder and ear, while he pulled on his socks.

The first voicemail was from Bobby. "What the hell is going on Sam? You call me at 2:30 in the morning, leaving me countless voicemails about being in a fight and going to the hospital? THEN, you ignore my countless calls. Call me when you get this, boy." Bobby mumbled something about Sam being an idgit and multiple other synonyms for "idiot" before ending the voicemail.

Good old Bobby. A sad smile crept on Sam's lips as he began to wonder if Bobby had any inkling of what was going on between him and Dean. Sam pulled on his flannel and listened to his second voicemail. It was from Dean. Finally, Dean returned a voicemail.

"Godammit, Sam! What have you gotten yourself into? Why are you getting into fights with random strangers at forbidden hours of the morning? Care to give any more details, Sam?" Dean was still pissed at Sam. Hell, beyond pissed is more like it. Not that he could blame Dean for his lividity. "Call me back when you listen to this. Call Bobby back too. He's flipping shit."

Sam suddenly felt sick. He eased himself back onto the mattress, with slumped shoulders. He caused all this ruckus and worry because he his childish, scared, and selfish. Part of him wished that he would have just stayed dead. He wouldn't have to be worrying about any of this. He'd just be dead and content. The other part knew Dean was going to Hell and the thought petrified him.

His self loathing ended with a jolt when interrupted by a knock on the door. "Uhhh, come─"

Kallie swung the door open without waiting for him to finish. He could have been naked for all she knew, but whatever she says goes in her abode. She was still dressed in the pajamas she had on last night with a perky grin plastered on his face. Eesh. A morning person.

"Good morning, Sammich. I'm assuming you slept well on account that its 10:30 in the morning." The creepy grin faded into a soft smile. She's the one who must have slept well.

"I slept alright. The bed killed my back though." He put on a false grin. "But thank you for the place to sleep. It's appreciated." He quickly added, hoping his earlier comment about the bed wouldn't be taking into offense.

"That thing sucks big time. You would have been better of sleeping on the couch." She chuckled stepping out of the doorway into the hallway and disappearing around the corner into the living room.

Her dog shot Sam a suspicious glance as he walked past the doorway but quickly followed after Kallie. Sam shrugged getting up from the bed and headed into the bathroom. As he was washing his hands after finishing up his business he realized he left his duffle bag at the police station. The duffle bag contained extra clothes, cell phone charger and oh! A sawed off shotgun, a few knives, salt, spell book. You know all the stuff that would end him up in a mental hospital.

He stumbled out of the bathroom, into the living room. He looked up at the dining table where Kallie sat drinking coffee and reading the paper. Appearing so normal.

"Feel free to help yourself to the coffee." She offered. But she didn't take her eyes off the paper.

"uhh, thanks. But I have a bigger problem. Can I borrow your car?" Kallie's bored expression turned baffled when she locked eyes with Sam.

"Oh, I should explain. I forgot my duffle bag at the police station. The duffle bag containing all my hunting supplies." His voice was hurried and his expression read anxious.

Kallie giggled softly, shaking her head. "That'd sure suck if they decided to search through the bag. But they have no grounds to search the bag so you're fine. Just sit down with a cup of coffee and enjoy the morning." Her smile was soft, maybe even caring. She returned to reading the paper.

Sam gave a tiny sigh as he poured himself a cup of coffee. She was definitely right, but he still couldn't help to feel paranoid at the fact the police had his personal belongings. But he did as Kallie suggested (more like demanded) and sipped away at his coffee, appreciating the quiet morning shared with a fellow hunter.

After a quiet cup of coffee Kallie and Sam escaped into their rooms to prepare for their trip to the police station. Sam slipped on his coat and shoes then proceeded into the kitchen. Kallie soon followed suit in a black turtle neck and a pair of way too worn pair of jeans.

"Would you be offended if I brought Rocky along and let him ride shotgun? Kallie laughed, grabbing her keys off the hook.

Sam shot her a mock glare then looked down at the husky mix sitting a few feet away from them. He swore that dog had it out for him. It was giving him the stink eye. "What kind of name is Rocky? Like Rocky Balboa?" Sam questioned, zipping up his coat.

"Uh no. Those movies are retarded. He's named after Rocky from the Rocky Horror Picture Show." She gave a goofy smile. Obviously very proud of her name choice for her canine companion.

"So you named your dog after a character in a movie who happened to be created for sex by a transvestite?" Kallie punched him in the bicep, but Sam just howled with laughter.

For an odd reason his laughter became infectious and Kallie laughed alongside him. Their giggling (and a little snorting) didn't recede until they climbing into her 1984 Camaro Coupe.

"You're jerk Sam." Kallie said staring the car, obviously trying not to crack up again.

"I'm not the one who named my dog after a human sex toy!" Sam chuckled again only to receive another swift punch to the arm. (If this kept up he'd have a few more bruises.) The car ride to the police station revolved around small talk, which was pleasant and entertaining enough.

Sam was lucky to be returning back to Kallie's humble abode. The police gave him suspicious looks when they gave him back his duffle bag. They sure knew what was lying on the inside of that bag but had no grounds to search through it.

When they both came back inside Sam plopped down on the couch, relieved that Kallie was right about the duffle bag. Now he needed to call Dean and Bobby back.

"Hey lazy! What do you think you're doing? You still owe me for letting you sleep in the guest bedroom." Sam gazed at her remembering she wasn't doing this out of the kindness of her heart.

"There are some chores I have that are more of a "man's job". Usually I have my dad do all this stuff, but since you're here might as well take advantage of it." She shot him a sly grin. He was in for it now.

Sam's expression fell grim. He was expecting something worse than Hellraiser. "Well, I was wondering if you could change the oil in my car and change the tires. I love my car but I suck at playing car doctor." Sam gave a sigh of relief. Nothing complicated.

"Do you always take advantage of your house guests?" Sam asked getting off the couch.

"Usually it's when they're sleeping." Kallie snickered, disappearing into the hallway.

Sam returned from the garage within a two hour period, covered in grease and dirt. Cars weren't as much as his thing as they were Deans. But he knew a thing or two. "Hey Kallie! I finished." He yelled, coming inside.

He awaited a response, but several moments ticked by and didn't get one. He shed his dirty coat into his temporary room and crept down the hallway to her room. He peeked on and spotted her asleep on the bed. Sam let out a soft laugh. "Yeah. You did so much work." Sam disappeared into the bathroom and took a hot shower. Luckily, she didn't have girly smelling soap.

He exited the bathroom refreshed and feeling squeaky clean. He spotted Kallie sitting on the couch. She was watched TV with Rocky.

"I see you took advantage of my hot water and clean towels." She teased.

"You bet. I was filthy after I was forced against my will to do a certain girls dirty work." Sam mocked back. He felt like he was in high school badly flirting with a girl.

"When you get dry and squeaky, princess, I want to take a look downstairs. There's a hidden wine cellar down where my dad used to store paranormal stuff in. I've never been allowed to see what's in it. Plus, I'm terrified of going down there by myself. Eesh. Spiders are so disgusting." She shivered.

A big bad demon hunter was afraid of spiders. Go figure. "Sure. I'm sure the curiosity is killing you. But first I have to make a few calls. I'll be out shortly."

Sam went into his room and dialed in Dean's number. Sam pressed send and he picked up on the fourth ring.

"About damn time you called me back Sam." Sam's stomach dropped realizing that it's been nearly a week since he's spoken to his brother. The guilt was still eating away at his very soul.


	5. Land Down Under

**Please review! :) (I'll return the favor if you have a spiffy SPN story.)  
"Land Down Under" is a song by Men at Work. It adds comical effect.( you'll see!)  
I do not own Superantural.**

"Ready for our adventure down into the dark abyss below?" Kallie asked as she peeked her head through the crack in the door.

She had heard Sam raise his voice a few times when he was speaking to Dean. She was wondering what was up with them, but she minded her own business. Last thing she needed was being in caught between when two demon hunting brothers went at it. Wouldn't be a pretty picture unless you liked lots of red and some flesh chunks.

Sam put on a phony placid smile and nodded. Kallie's assumption of something being wrong, was correct. The conversations he had with Dean and Bobby both went awry. He ended up getting into an argument with Dean because Sam wasn't quite ready to join back up again with him. Dean called him a "runaway", "quitter", and the one that stung the most: "a bad brother". Why Dean resorted to name calling, was beyond Sam. Dean was trying to convince Sam that they should hunting together but soon lashed out after Sam refused.

Sam couldn't face Dean. At least, not yet. Sam needed some time to swallow his guilt and being in the middle of the woods with a crazy hunter named Kallie was just the medicine the doctor ordered. She was the exact opposite of his life. She was inane, unorthodox, hilarious and (most importantly) carefree. She had no agenda. She just did as she wanted, when she wanted. A part of Sam envied her for being so free. Something he always craved to be.

The conversation with Bobby turned sour when Sam accidently let it spill that Dean damned himself to hell. Their conversation was short because Bobby claimed that Dean was about to get an earful and would call back later. Sam added the phone call to Bobby to his never-ending pile of guilt.

Sam rose off the bed and opened the door all the way to find Kallie wearing a hat that resembled Indiana Jones's. What else could Sam do but crack up? So he did.

"Are you really going to wear that just to venture down in your own basement?" He questioned, shaking his head. If this kept up he was going to die from laughter.

"Of course I am! I always wanted a lame excuse to wear it and I believe this is the perfect occasion." She had a full-toothed grin etched on her face. How she became a hunter was beyond him.

Kallie led him through the kitchen and opened the door leading down into the "dark abyss". Kallie automatically tensed as if she was expecting something to jump out and rattle her brains. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she fumbled around attempting to find the string attached to the overhead light. Finally Sam heard a _click_ and the basement illuminated.

It was one of the most tidy, clean basements he ever laid eyes on. Hell, it was probably cleaner than some of the hotel rooms he stayed in. Half of it was carpeted and the other was unscathed cement. A person could dwell down here if they so very well pleased. There was little to nothing scary about it. He didn't even see a spider web.

"Kallie, what drugs have you been doing? This place is squeaky clean!"

"I don't take drugs! Well, by accident I took weed, but it was in some brownies. That trip was awesome…" She stopped herself and shook her head. "Uhh, not the point. It's creepy down here unless you are one of those people who enjoys being in dark, dank, desolate basements with the spiders!"

"Why other drugs have you "accidently" taken?" Sam chuckled proceeding further into the basement.

Kallie glared at him not daring to give any inkling of any other drugs she's toyed with. Okay, maybe once she tried LSD, but what's the big deal? She was sixteen and stupid. Kallie led Sam behind the stairway. There was a large storage rack with plenty of canned goods enough for five people to survive two Armageddons. Kallie squeezed behind the shelves and began fondling the wall. She went "Ah-ha!" when her hand found an indentation in the wall.

"What's back there? The wine cellar?" Sam asked, trying to see.

"Yep. My dad made sure to keep it sealed tight, well at least against demons any way. There's a small indentation here and it's where the handle to the door is. Once inside, there will be a devil's trap. And that's about as far as I got inside before my dad yanked me out and told me never to go in there again. So there must be some powerful shit in here." She jumbled with the handle a few times, when it swung inward.

She glanced back at Sam, indicating it was time to follow. Sam somehow managed to squeeze behind the food shelves and into the unpleasantly small door. It was maybe 5'6" by 4", so Sam was nearly on his knees trying to squeeze through there. Once inside, the ceiling was higher, so he stood erect. He looked up at the ceiling confirming that there was indeed a devil's trap. Boy, that'd suck going through that tiny door and only be spellbound inside a devil's trap.

Sam followed Kallie down the dank corridor. It was difficult to see anything. He couldn't even see his own hand. So when Kallie stopped abruptly Sam collided into her. They both ended up on the floor in the most comical yet awkward position.

"Sam! I am soooo not into doggy-style! Get offa me ya' moose!" She was cackled up a storm as Sam hurriedly scrambled off of her. She didn't need a light to know he was blushing like mad.

Sam helped her up while muttering a few apologies. He swallowed hard, truly not expecting such a crude reaction from her. Talk about getting the blood pumping.

Kallie neared the end of the corridor where she found a large chest. She pulled a flashlight out of her back pocket and flipped it on. The chest was made of some kind of wood with a buckle shaped like the pentagram tattooed on his chest. A key of some sort was needed.

"We're going to take this upstairs. You know, where you can actually see two inches away from your face."

As Kallie picked up the chest, they heard on odd noise. They exchanged concerned expressions and were suddenly doused in water. After the torrential downpour both Kallie and Sam exhaled obnoxiously. Of course, that was too easy.

"I knew there was going to be a booby trap! This is the first time I'd ever been pissed at holy water." Kallie grumbled.

Kallie handed Sam the chest, then slipped past him out into the basement. The task took Sam a bit longer, but luckily Kallie at least moved the food shelves back away from the wall a bit so he wouldn't have to squeeze. They made their way upstairs setting the chest on the table. Kallie looked down at herself, grateful she wore a black turtle neck.

"Just our luck Sam, huh?" She shrugged, shaking her head.

They disappeared into their rooms to change into some warm and arid. They joined up at the table, curious to what was resting inside. Kallie plucked a key out of her back pocket and put it into the lock. After she turned the key (for dramatic effect) ducked down, hoping nothing would shoot out at her. She slowly came back up and opened the chest all the way.

On the left side, there were many journals stack on top of one another._ "How many journals does a person need?" _They both wondered. The other side was a different story. It was full of all sorts of knick-knacks. Probably protection (or summoning) charms. Maybe they could have even been something a little more dark, hence the protection around it. Whatever was in this chest was meant to stay out of the wrong hands.

"Sam, I'm starting to regret opening this chest. I don't even know what some of this stuff is! What is a big bad gets a hold of one of these things and it gives them unspeakable powers or something?" Kallie exclaimed, obviously worried.

"You would be right Kallie. If that shit was found in the wrong hands more hell would break loose." Scolded a familiar voice.

Kallie and Sam tensed and looked behind themselves. Kallie's face shone so bright that it could put the sun out of business.

"Bobby!" She squealed as she flung herself at him, bringing him into a tight bear hug.

Bobby chuckled, returning the squeeze. Though he was being affectionate with Kallie he shot Sam a "we-need-to-talk" look. It wasn't a pissed demand, more worried than anything. Probably here to talk about Dean. Wait, how did he know Sam was here?

"I didn't know you know you knew Kallie, Sam." Bobby said.

"I met her a long time ago. Dad was friends with her parents."

"Many hunters know the infamous Skeptors." Bobby chuckled. "Not every day you meet up with Russian hunters."

"What brought you here Bobby?" Kallie asked, with a tilt of the head.

"I'm here for two reasons. One, because I have to return your dad's spell book. Two, because I traced Sam's phone to see where he was. So basically, I'm killing two birds with one stone." Bobby glanced at Sam then at the chest on the table.

"I'd put that back if I were you. There are some things in there that are never to see the light of day ever again." All traces of humor had left Bobby's face.

Something in that box was powerful enough to scare Bobby. Kallie gulped rushing to close the lid on the chest. She was dying to know what was in those journals, but not at the expense of risking peoples' lives. Her curiosity would have to remain unsatisfied.


End file.
